


Key Lime Pie

by muuny



Series: Fruit and other delicious things [4]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, clear and sei and noiz being uncles, overbearing papajaku, sly being difficult, slyjaku, someone take my laptop please, unresolved noiao if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuny/pseuds/muuny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is really, really warm. Aoba never knew so much heat could be compacted into such a tiny body. It’s strong and concentrated. Is he warm like this, too? Maybe this is why she loves being held… Then again, it does feel great just being there with her, and actually holding her, because a handful of weeks ago this moment could easily have not even existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Key Lime Pie

**Author's Note:**

> i said i was done but i am a liar.  
> thank you for reading you all are lovely yes.
> 
> <3

 

How things can suddenly go to shit without the faintest of warnings never fazed Koujaku. He expected such from his life, in fact.

But _this_ was pushing it.

Koujaku’s entire world charred over in just a matter of minutes. One moment, he and Aoba were conversing as they always did, the expectant one warmly snuggled beneath one of Tae’s quilts in the comfort of the Seragaki home. His eight-and-a-half month pregnancy was drawing to a close; Tae ordered him to be on strict bed rest, and she made sure of it because the couple had temporarily moved in to her home so that Aoba could be monitored and tended to ‘round the clock.

And not even forty-five minutes later, a hypersensitive Aoba was hurriedly admitted to the emergency room of Midorijima general hospital without any explanation from the surgeons he was assigned to. Though marveled by the unique set of circumstances, the staff temporarily overlooked Aoba’s maleness because of the dire situation. Their main objective was delivering the baby as soon as possible. They were forced to place Aoba in unfamiliar hands. The couple’s actual hospital of choice was comfortably farther from Tae’s home – and the staff there was well aware and had previously been briefed about Aoba’s special situation – but they did not want to risk traveling the extra distance because Aoba honestly did not look like he would last.

The surgeons did not sugarcoat it for the family, either. They told him that their main priority was delivering the baby as soon as possible – and _if_ possible.

That did not paralyze Koujaku, because he was already paralyzed. Everything happened at light speed. Aoba was _just_ laughing with him. Smiling with him. Kissing and joking like the big kids they were.

Then he was hardly taking oxygen, staggering in and out of consciousness, gasping and moaning for him.

And Koujaku could only stare. Everything he had lived for was going to be taken from him.

He physically couldn’t bring his body to the operating room. He refused to leave the waiting room. He could not sit there and watch his lover or his baby – or plausibly both – perish before his eyes. He could not stomach the trauma. The reality. The blood. Aoba’s blood. His baby’s blood. Blood.

 _Blood_.

Koujaku had been immobilized.

Tae – completely understanding Koujaku’s hesitation – took his place by Aoba’s side in the operating room while Sei waited on the outside with him, coddling Koujaku’s spirits with healing words and touches. His presence was quelling for the shaken Koujaku, but in the back of his mind cooked his deepest nightmare:

Parting the hospital without Aoba or Aleena.

The cesarean spanned for three lifetimes to Koujaku. As he was waiting, there came a moment when he could actually feel the make-up of his soul being eaten bit by bit. Savored. His very sanity – what little that remained – started to turn on him. Sei’s sweet messages could only do so much; the demons were far too great.

And just when every feasible thing felt as if it had fleeted like mercury from Koujaku’s grasp, Tae emerged from the operating room. Dressed in a seafoam operating gown and cap, Tae severed Koujaku from his traumatic spell as she dropped his own gown and cap set in his lap. Koujaku – eyes hollow – peered stupidly at the items.

“She’s here,” Tae told Koujaku and Sei, the whites of her eyes faintly stained with pink. Sei broke out into silent sniffling. Koujaku didn’t know how he managed to dress himself, but he did, and he was led by the hand like a child by Tae past the double doors.

He remembers his senses being acutely assailed by the cutting scent of alcohol, and the screaming fluorescent lighting above. Aoba had been stitched up, but the lead surgeon and nurses were still swarmed over his body like vultures, Koujaku thought.

Vultures.

Tae led him away and toward a nurse occupying the far left corner of the room. She was hovering over a seemingly vacant tray. But it was all but vacant.

The nearer he became, the more distinct the little feeble cries he heard from the small bed became. The nurse stepped aside and made way for the father, and Koujaku still does not know of the power or force that kept him on his feet.

Inside of the little tray, he saw violet hair – his hair – and very much of it judging from what the pink, knitted cap couldn’t hold. He saw flushed, peachy skin. Two arms. Two legs. All ten fingers and toes. He saw a _baby_.

Aleena Seragaki was born December 12th, exactly six pounds, exactly six ounces. She was so tiny. A good tiny. He pondered how humans could ever be that small…

The nurse was just finishing her examination of the baby and pronounced her healthy. Even healthy enough to take home the following day. She did say, however, that they would like to keep her for a few days just to be safe, and to administer a number of tests because of her unique birth. They guaranteed the couple confidentiality regarding Aoba’s special case, but in that very moment in time, Koujaku didn’t care for any of that.

His daughter had been born.

He was a father.

The time had come to actually hold her; the nurse blanketed her tightly before gingerly passing her off into her new father’s jellified arms. The latter received her tiny body, the transition shaking her from the nap she’d fell into. Thus, her eyes opened, first forming teeny slits, and gradually, she revealed her orbs to him.

Golden honey reached his eyes and the other pairs of eyes surrounding him.

Koujaku nearly gave into his knees. He was taken by her. So entirely taken his heart seams threatened to tear. Then and there, she became everything to him.

The remainder of the day, the support nurses were simply trying to keep Aoba’s vitals stabilized. The head surgeon assured the family that he was going to be fine; rest was going to be a major component in his recovery. They were not sure what specifically caused Aoba’s brusque lapse, so they definitely wanted to have him under their microscope for a few days. Koujaku stayed resolutely by his lover’s side through it all. Every hour, every minute. Kissing his hand. Holding his hand. Apologizing, promising to do better, promising to _be_ better.

Promising to remain beside him.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he brokenly repeated to Aoba.

And that was pretty much all he could say.

 

::::::: 

 

(Seragaki residence, three weeks later…)

“ _A_ ……”

…

…..

“ _A…b…?_ ”

A strong voice, yet softly laced with sweetness calls out to Aoba. Aoba feels it lifting his wavering consciousness higher and higher. Higher, to the surface. That glistening, fragile threshold.

In a gentle transition to awareness, Aoba’s eyes quietly open.

Koujaku smiles from the rocking chair, “I knew I heard your grumbling.”

He stands, pupils stuck on his daughter’s peachy, round face as he cradles her in both arms. His cheeks are seemingly fixed in the same, soft grin.

Everything is still so dreamlike. Yes, he is really home – their _second_ home. Even before the incident occurred, Koujaku and Aoba thought it best to settle at Tae’s for the first few weeks after their daughter’s birth. They were going to need her guidance as well as her invaluable assistance support. Ren, Beni, and eager uncles Sei and Clear are helpful hands around the house, too. Aleena responds pretty well to them all, mystified especially by Ren and Beni.

Koujaku helps Aoba sit upright. He settles snugly beside him, gently dropping several kisses against his temple. He seals all of them with a single but firm smooch to Aoba’s lips. “’Mornin’,” he greets.

“Morning…” Aoba looks to the side of him, also finding an awakened Ren, “Morning, Ren.”

Ren’s tail shifts twice.

“Good morning, Aoba.”

Beni perches himself on either of Aoba’s shoulders, “Mornin’, Aoba!” Aoba still gets his “kisses,” though they’re not as prickly. He’s mindful of Aoba’s tender condition, so he takes it easy on him. Aoba stretches carefully, clasping the nape of his neck with his palm.

“I was talking?” he questions.

Koujaku smiles, “Yeah, mumbling something. Very lightly, though.”

Aoba’s eyes meet Aleena’s for the first time that day. Her bright spheres are also trained on him in a googly sort of way. It’s endearing. She’s wearing one of the umpteen rompers Noiz bought for her. This specific one is lavender; the hood houses a set of short bunny ears.

“Did she just wake up?”

“Nah. She’s been up for almost ten minutes. I changed her and gave her a bath already.”

Aoba takes her small hand and gingerly feels over her teeny fingers with the pad of his thumb…

“I keep forgetting how small she actually is…”

“And how _pink_. Do you think you have the strength to hold her?”

Aoba weakly smiles at his little one, internally assessing his strength. “I think it would be safe if you just held her next to me. I’m still feeling a little woozy when I wake, but I am doing better. She seems to be comfortable with you right now, anyway.”

“You think so?” Koujaku grips bundled Aleena ever the more closer to his chest. He never wants to put her down. Honestly, all he ever wants to do is keep her with him, in his arms and in his sight. He wants to have her near and warm, never needing for anything. Nothing will touch nor harm her, for he is her father, and he vows to provide the utmost protection for her as well as Aoba. He will perish for them in a heartbeat. He suddenly has all this ferocious love and he just wants to fill her little body with all of it.

This is his daughter. More precious than any gem or star.

“Y’know… for a moment, I truly thought I was going to lose all of you.”

Aoba shuts his eyes. Both of them are instantly placed back on that day when everything was up in the clouds. Koujaku fusses with Aleena’s hair to distract himself from those unwanted memories. Her locks never settle for long, no matter the tool or technique. It reminds him fondly of Aoba’s texture.

“‘ _Not now, not now…_ ’ That’s all I can remember going through my head; that was all I could say as I watched them rush you away from me. I truly, truly thought it was the end of everything, that karma had finally caught up to me—”

“But none o’ that happened, thank goodness. Here I am, and there she is. We’re all okay, Koujaku.”

Koujaku beams, firstly to their baby, and thusly to his beloved. He leans toward Aoba – securing Aleena against his chest a bit more snugly – and gently strikes his brow twice. While they’re on that topic…

“Any sign of Sly?” asks Koujaku, retaining what little, intimate space they left between them.

“Tch. He’s still ignoring me. I can’t even feel him on some days. And what angers me is that he’s still acting this way even after our daughter’s birth. He won’t even come out for his own _daughter_ ,” Aoba works his lower lip gently between his incisors, “I just don’t get him. Why? Why is he doing this? Why won’t he speak with me? _Us?_ What is his reason?”

A handful of weeks before the birth, Sly stopped making his regular appearances, letting Aoba take the front seat. Nothing particularly bad happened between the three of them, it was just Sly had abruptly stopped wanting to come out. Aoba tried questioning him about the reason for his sudden attitude, but Sly never gave an explanation. The last time he attempted to meddle Sly slapped him with a stony, “Mind your own fucking business.” And Aoba had had it by that point, so he left things at that. Ever since, Sly spoke not a syllable to him.

Koujaku, poor man, was just as confused. He painstakingly reviewed over and over the past days he spent with Sly, trying to recall anything that he could have said or did to anger him and set him off. Whatever it was, it had to be monumental enough for him to completely disregard his daughter’s birth. On that day, Sly was nowhere to be found. The days after? Nothing still. Koujaku asked Aoba every few days if he had made any successful forms of communication with Sly, but was let down every time. He feared that he ultimately disappeared, but Aoba debunked that, because he could feel Sly stirring as he always did. Sly had simply chosen to totally ignore him – the both of them. And it wasn’t right.

Weeks and weeks have filed on – one after the other – and Koujaku still finds himself lying awake at night with his eyes pinned on his lover who succumbed to sleep hours before. He pleads for Sly to come back to them. He tells him that he loves him and misses him and wants him to formally meet their baby girl. He knows Sly hears him, and he prays that maybe one day he’ll take what he’s saying to heart and actually make his reappearance.

Only time will tell.

“ _Aobaaa_ , don’t get yourself too worked up about it. I’m sure he’s working something out, or thinking things through. Why? I’m just as clueless. But you don’t need to worry about this. Just rest, alright?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll be back in a sec. I’m gonna fix a bottle for her. She ate through all the ones Clear and I premade last night.” Koujaku safely lowers Aleena in between the fork of Aoba’s spread legs, leaving her on her backside. He leaves the room quietly. Aoba directs his attention unto his squirming daughter. She’s grasping air in her little hands. She shakes with whimpers, her little visage scrunching in discomfort. Alerted, Aoba takes her little foot and rattles it in a lulling manner.

“Don’t cry…!! A-Ahh, _I can’t really hold her now_. Ren, what should I do?”

“I propose shaking _both_ of her feet,” states Ren matter-of-factly.

Aoba tries, and it is ineffective. Her whimpers actually grow louder, and they are _piercing_. He blames Koujaku for this. The man spoils her by holding her so much. She actually cries whenever that warmth is absent.

“ _Leenaaa_ ,” Aoba pleads, “I can’t hold you right now, I’m sorry. Papa will be back. It’s okay, stop crying please…”

“Pet her stomach,” Beni chirps.

…Still ineffective.

:::::::

“Ah~ Good morning, Koujaku-san!” welcomes an aproned Clear from the buzzing kitchen. Breakfast is being cooked on the stove. Koujaku enters, in bound for the cupboards. He clutches one of her purple bottles.

“’Morning, Clear. Tae-san’s left already?”

“Yes. She’s out making her morning rounds. She said she will be back by noon at the latest. Are Aoba-san and Leena-chan awake, too?”

As if on cue, Aleena’s screeching tears down the walls and charges the air.

“There’s your answer. Aoba just woke up. I’m making a bottle for her now.”

“No need~ I saw that there weren’t any left in the fridge, so I prepared some for her before I started cooking.”

“Oh… thanks, Clear. That saves me some time.”

Alongside granny Tae, Clear has unmistakably been an irreplaceable help to have on the new parents’ side. From doing her laundry to arranging her bottles, from whisking her to rest to being her ultimate playmate, he takes on whatever duty necessary if it involves his adopted niece. His love for her shines within the coral of his irises, and no task is too big to complete when it’s for his Leena-chan.

“You’re welcome! Leena-chan has quite the appetite, doesn’t she?”

“She does, but that’s good. Means she’ll be a strong girl.”

After stowing away the empty bottle, Koujaku opens the refrigerator, and yes, there are purple and yellow bottles all full to the brim with Tae’s special formula. He selects a yellow one dotted with tiny, purple butterflies and nukes it in the microwave. He shakes it well, checking the temperature by letting a few droplets rain on his wrist. It’s perfectly lukewarm.

“Breakfast is almost ready. I will call for you all when everything’s finished~” Clear says.

Koujaku thanks Clear once more and marches upstairs to his family. What he finds is Aoba with his face seated in his right palm while a wriggling Aleena is pomegranate red and is absolutely _upset_.

“Oh thank god,” sighs Aoba, noting his partner’s return. Koujaku laughs, hovering closely over Aleena’s fidgety body.

“I can’t put you down for one moment, can I?” he asks her. She replies in wails. He plucks her off the bed and into his arms, carrying her to the rocking chair in the corner facing Aoba’s bed. Somehow, they managed to find space to fit a rocking chair in Aoba’s room. They made the effort to rearrange some things with the coming of the baby, but rearranging clutter is not necessarily the same as cleaning. Aoba has yet to figure that out.

Aleena eases into silence, naturally curling against her father’s chest.

Ren rolls onto his back, evidently relieved at the newborn peace.  “Aoba was unsuccessful in quieting Aleena,” he informs Koujaku, a heavy sigh following. Beni, who drops himself right on Ren’s exposed belly, adds that he told Aoba to simply cover her mouth and it would end all of their suffering.

“Neither of you were of much help, by the way,” Aoba grumbles.

Koujaku, finding this utterly hilarious, softly lowers himself down into the chair. He pops off the plastic cap encasing the bottle. The rubber nipple drifts to Aleena’s tiny lips; she latches on without hesitation, contently closing her eyes. The smile such a sight creates possesses Koujaku’s lips. He ever so lightly starts up an easy rhythm, rocking to and fro. His eyes do not separate from her. Aoba observes the scene from his bed, touched, and a little shaken.

“You’re better at this thing than I am,” Aoba says.

“‘This thing?’” Koujaku repeats, puzzled.

“This… parenting thing.”

“Why d’you think that?”

Aoba presses his lips together unconsciously.

“I feel like I haven’t bonded with her at all.”

“Aoba…”

“Sometimes I feel like I know nothing about her. When she cries I don’t know what to do. I can barely hold her. I don’t think she even recognizes my voice.”

“Aoba, _don’t_. You’ve been recuperating, so yes, you haven’t been able to spend as much time with her as you’d like. You need to rest and build your strength back up. If you don’t, you won’t be able to bond with Aleena at all. She’ll still be here. You’ve got plenty of time for all o’ that. And I wasn’t all that great at this right off the bat, either. You remember how many times Tae-san smacked me. I eventually got most of the stuff right – at least halfway. You just have to read her, thassall. She makes a lot of your faces, so it’s easy for me to tell what she wants.”

“She does?”

“Mhm. If you watch her long enough, you’ll see ‘em. That’s why I hate when she cries.”

A polite round of knocks at Aoba’s bedroom door. The couple collectively invites the person in. Sei ends up opening the barrier, sporting the loveliest form of bedhead one can hope to have as well as oversized pjs that appeared to devour his entire frame.

“Good morning, everyone.”

Aoba returns the greeting with a hug that Sei leans for. The latter rubs his younger twin’s backside in circles.

“You are looking so much better,” he comments, genuinely comforted by the healthy aura he senses floating about Aoba’s form.

“I _feel_ so much better, thanks.” And he really is thankful for Sei’s being there. Before Aoba fell ill, Mizuki asked Sei to officially move in with him. However, Sei postponed the big event for the following weeks when Aoba’s pregnancy became critical so that he could stay by the sides of his ailing sibling and new niece. After all, Aoba did the same for him, and would undeniably do the same had the tables been turned.

“Mizuki must’ve been easy on you last night. You’re up early,” Koujaku mildly teases. Sei’s black stones reciprocate with an “I-would-throw-something-at-you-if-you-weren’t-holding-my-niece-so-I’ll-let-that-slide” glare. He bends over Koujaku’s shoulder to gain a better peek at Aleena. She monitors him closely once he enters her field of view. Her eyes had opened once her uncle’s voice brightened the room.

“ _Look at you._ Good morning, beautiful girl,” Sei coos, “Your hair looks just like mine~”

Koujaku frowns, “I took her brush to it, but it does whatever it wants after a couple minutes.”

“It’s cute. Was _that_ why she was crying a while ago?”

“No, but she doesn’t like when I fuss with it too much,” Koujaku’s lips stretch as he simpers, tacking his ruby eyes onto Aoba, “like Mama.” Mama Aoba sends a playful glare his way.

Aleena ate the suspected amount: a little more than half of her bottle. Aoba offers to burp her, so Koujaku settles a fresh, yellow feeding rag from his desk over his right shoulder. And, with more caution, he steadily lowers Aleena onto his mate’s upper chest. She knowingly clings onto Aoba like a baby mammal, resting her small head atop his covered shoulder. Aoba proceeds just as Tae demonstrated in the past: start firmly patting from her lower back, then make your way up and rub her along the way. She loosed a couple, tiny burps and a small cluster of milk bubbles appeared around the corner of her lips, but she did not spit up as much as expected.

“Someone’s sleepy,” Sei softly whispers. Aoba blinks, peering at Aleena from over his shoulder.

“She’s falling asleep?” he utters to his twin. Sei pinches a piece of the rag and gently dabs her lips clean, “Mhm. It’s like her eyelids are heavy.”

Clear’s harmonic voice floats upstairs, announcing the completion of yet another one of his grand, breakfast banquets.

Aoba resumes mildly tapping his daughters little back, “You guys go on. I’ll put her to bed.”

“You sure, Aoba?” Koujaku asks.

“Mhm, I’ve got her. How hard could it be?”

A smile sweeps across Koujaku’s mouth. Sure, why not? Aoba needs this time with her. He’s regained more than half of his strength, and it’s been weeks since he’s had this kind of intimate contact with her because of the untimely fluctuations with his health. Such a task may be regarded as simple, but it’s a task that is important to him. Koujaku stands and rejoins his mate on the bed for a moment. He bestows a weightless kiss upon Aleena’s head before departing. Sei murmurs a farewell to her upon his exit.

All but Aoba, Aleena, and Ren remain. Aoba does not have much lulling left to do. Aleena, with the aid of milk, is well on her way to sleep. He resumes his gentle pats and soothingly rocks forward and backward…

She is really, really warm. Aoba never knew so much heat could be compacted into such a tiny body. It’s strong and concentrated. Is he warm like this, too? Maybe this is why she loves being held… Then again, it does feel great just being there with her, and actually holding her, because a handful of weeks ago this moment could _easily_ have not even existed.

Aoba drowns out all that is him, and totally tunes in to the little life on his shoulder. He feels the pitter-patter of her heart beating his upper chest. Deeper, he feels her little lungs working, taking air, expelling air. He absorbs these sensations… he absorbs her heat. He becomes one with her, reading and documenting every little action.

Until she’s fast asleep.

With loving caution, Aoba patiently leaves the bed and shifts upon his soles. He carries Aleena in the air for a minute or two, pacing. Her weight is a pleasant pressure; Aoba almost does not want to set her down. But he does so delicately, lowering Aleena inside of her bassinet. This time, she does not scream. She squirms as expected, but settles back into her dream.

Aoba observes her; he does not entirely let her go. His index finger skims over fingers first for some time. He migrates to her dark, cotton candy-like ringlets. Poor thing does have his hair texture…

But he suddenly feels watched, though this is no alien feeling. This is what Aoba experiences when Sly’s conscious uses his eyes. And as quickly as Aoba internally calls out to him, Sly just as swiftly disappears. The occurrence was so brief that one would question if Sly had truly been awake for that split second. But Aoba knew what he felt; he sensed his presence. He felt him staring, and specifically at Aleena.

“Aoba. You seem distraught,” Ren notes. He hops down from the bed and sits patiently beside his ankles.

“I’m okay… Though I… I think I might’ve felt Sly.”

“Then we had the same experience. It was definitely him.”

“It happened so fast. I even called out to him, but of course he vanished.”

Ren tells Aoba not to fret too much over unsuccessfully establishing any contact. He makes the point that Sly will only make a connection when he’s absolutely ready and willing to. Aoba picks his beloved AllMate up from the floor and into his arms.

“You’re right, Ren. He’ll definitely pester me when he wants to talk.”

Aoba takes another glance back at his napping daughter. She is the most at-peace little thing he’s seen. He leaves her with a single tap to one of her open palms. Then the duo starts down the steps to join everyone at the kitchen table.

:::::::

_10: 12 A.M._

 

In four minutes, Koujaku departs for his first day back at work, and it is not a joyous day. Why wouldn’t it be? Aoba’s health has improved dynamically, and their baby girl is blossoming with each passing day. But that’s exactly it: His services will not be in such high demand anymore. Aoba doesn’t need him breathing down his neck every waking minute as he did in the past weeks, and Aleena has enough uncles _and_ Tae to keep her company – and alive. He really liked being depended on. He loved fetching things for Aoba; he loved checking on Aleena every five minutes. He was there in a breath. He has been by their sides unfailingly for nearly a whole month, retrieving any- and everything without protest. It’s undoubtedly going to feel different not being in the same room with his little family.

Koujaku half smiles and half frowns, those lips meeting Aoba’s pair, and thrice. Presently, he, Aoba, Sei, and Clear are on the living room sofa. Koujaku and Sei occupy the ends, and Aoba and Clear are sandwiched in the center. But wholly, everyone’s crowded around Aleena, who is being affectionately hogged by uncle Clear armed with a sock puppet.

“I really don’t want to leave,” Koujaku moans to his lover. Aoba laughs.

“It’s just for a few hours, Koujaku.”

“But she’s never been out of my sight for more than five minutes. And I’ll be gone till lunchtime.”

“She’ll be _fine_. She’s got Sei and Clear, and Granny will be home later to help.”

“Leena-chan is in good hands,” Clear adds and reassures, supporting her back as he props her upright in his lap.

“Well yeah, but—”

Aoba flicks his mate with his fingers between his eyes.

“You’re gonna be late opening up if you don’t get going. She’ll be alive when you get back.”

Koujaku briefly rolls his eyes. They tread over to Clear’s lap, to his daughter’s wily tresses, and finally come upon her round face. She’s eyeing Clear’s hand closely, entranced by the energetic, loud-colored sock puppet rapidly snapping in front of her nose. She appears confused according to her bright eyes, but entertained.

…Just one more goodbye.

Koujaku rises to his feet, “I’ll be back in the evening. Maybe around eight-thirty or nine.”

“Alright,” Aoba shares another kiss with him, “I love you.”

“Love you,” and Koujaku pecks Aleena on the top of her head twice more, “Papa’s leaving now, Leena. I’ll be home again soon…”

And one terribly long “I love you” later, the man halfheartedly leaves the premises.

Aoba heftily blows air, slouching back into the cushion.

“ _God_ , he’s so dramatic. He’s gonna be calling every hour, I bet.”

Clear softly bounces Aleena in his lap, “I think it’s precious. Koujaku-san really loves the both of you.”

Aoba grins stupidly, but Clear’s telling the truth. Koujaku loves him. The beating flesh in his chest always inflates with this infectious warmth that he only gets from his lover. It’s always been there – ever since they were little children – but now that love has progressively evolved into something just as precious, something deep that he could have never imagined he could or would experience. And the little product – the proof – of that new love is gaping wide-eyed with expectance at her silly white-haired uncle. It’s a precious spectacle…

“Aoba?” Sei calls.

“Hm?”

“Isn’t Noiz supposed to be coming over today?”

“Yeah. Sometime around twelve.”

Noiz has only viewed pictures of baby Aleena sent via coil from either Aoba himself or the rest of the crew. He was halfway around the world doing business in Germany when he was notified that Aoba went into labor unexpectedly and frightfully gave birth slightly early to a baby girl. He would have definitely been there for Aoba had his work allowed, but at such short notice, there was no way that he could have paused various projects just to pay a visit. And it was tough for him.

But now, with everything completed, Noiz has a window of time available, and he is spending it to finally see about Aoba and the child.

“Did he say how long he was staying?” Sei adds on.

“About a week, or something like that.”

Clear grins, adjusting Aleena’s bunny hood, “That’s wonderful~ I wonder how she’ll take to him.”

Aleena has never had a negative reaction to anyone she’s been introduced to. So long as she is warm, there shouldn’t be an issue. She’s a friendly being.

Aoba pats down a few rebellious strands of her dark, wispy hair…

“…I wonder how Noiz will take to _her_.”

:::::::

 

 

_12:11 P.M._

 

Koujaku held out longer than Aoba predicted.

One of his clients was on the tardy side, and so he used that as an excuse to check in on Aoba. It was a five-minute long call full of Aoba assuring Koujaku that he is fine and their daughter is still breathing and intact. Aleena’s wide awake, resting on her backside in the middle of a comfy, lush quilt placed in the living quarters. Ren’s curled at her left, watching her closely. The latter asks if he could see her, but his client arrived before the words could form in his throat. He grudgingly let his lover go.

Someone else, too, currently makes their entrance with a chime at the door of the Seragaki residence.

Ren pops onto his feet, “Aoba. It’s Noiz.”

Aoba thanks him and answers.

“Hello, uncle Noiz~”

Smirking, Noiz replies with a flat, “Don’t call me ‘uncle.’”

“But you _are_ uncle Noiz.”

“‘Uncle Noiz’ makes me sound old and somehow perverted.”

“You _are_ perverted. And so what? They call me ‘Mama’ but I’m not technically a mom.”

“Yes you are.”

Aoba sighs. He foresees losing the argument, so he cleverly drops it. Noiz pushes one of two bouquets he’s holding underneath Aoba’s nose. They’re embellished with wrapping, ribbon… the works. Both are equal in size, one stuffed with white roses and the other belching with yellow. Aoba properly accepts the yellow roses into his arms, also giving Noiz permission to come inside.

“ _Noooiiiz…_ Thank you… I hope I have a place to put them.”

“Yeah, if Mink hasn’t taken up all the vases. I bought some as a precaution. They’re at the hotel, though.” Mink _has_ occupied all of Aoba’s vases with his flowers, by the way.

“I’ll find a place for ‘em.” Aoba sets them down on the kitchen counter temporarily. He returns to the main living space, finding Noiz towering over Aleena. Her golden orbs were focused exclusively on Ren until Noiz hopped into the picture. He then crouches beside her form and lays the bouquet of white roses to the right of her. Aleena notices him immediately.

“So this is her.”

“Yes, _Aleena_.”

“Aleena,” Noiz tests, “…Koujaku pick that name?”

“Yes.”

“Figures.”

“Eh?”

“She really does look like you. That’s too bad.”

“Now what is _that_ supposed to mean!?”

Noiz smirks, “Calm down. She’s pretty.”

“Thank you…” Aoba crouches adjacent to him, “Wanna hold her?”

“She’ll bite me.”

“She won’t _bite_ you, Noiz.”

“I’m pretty sure she’ll bite me.”

“Noiz.”

“I am one-hundred percent certain.”

“ _Noiz_. Hold her.”

Noiz sighs and gives, following Aoba to the sofa. Aoba briefly schools him on the proper posture to have when holding an infant, and Noiz settles into an appropriate position. Aoba comfortably passes his daughter into the supporting bowl of Noiz’s arms; Noiz accommodates her body wherever needed.

“Have any of you been feeding her?” he inquires.

“Yeah…? Why?”

“She’s so light.”

“She’s just three weeks. And I don’t think she’s supposed to be necessarily heavy.”

Aleena eyes Noiz with openness, rarely blinking.

“She’s plotting something.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous.”

“Look at her.”

“What could she possibly be plotting, Noiz.”

“I don’t know. She’s Koujaku’s kid. There’s no telling.”

Aoba actually laughs. “You’re hilarious.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Aoba actually stops laughing. Noiz’s face is stripped clean of all sheepishness. He stares Aoba pinpoint into his eyes and poses the question again, and in the same tone, but firmer.

“Does he make you happy?”

“ _You’re…………_ Koujaku, right? You’re talking about Koujaku… _right?_ ”

“Is there someone else?”

“…No.”

“Then does he make you happy?”

“...Yes. He does.”

“Great.”

“……Why would he not?”

Noiz does not answer that question.

 

:::::::

_2:27 A.M._

_“Whatever it is, Sly, we can talk about it.”_

_“You can talk to me.”_

_“Whatever I need to do, I’ll do it. I’ll say it. Just… come back to me.”_

_“I want to see you again. I want to speak with you. I’ve missed you…”_

_…_

_……_

_…_

_“I love you.”_

As Sly gazes at the peaceful, handsome countenance of the sleeping Koujaku, a cloak of constriction rises and sits on his chest. Koujaku’s words warmly swirl and churn within Sly’s core, turning over and over and growing in thickness. He continues to feel the faint, fuzzy sensation of Koujaku’s lips brushing his brow that night, his nightly speech tickling the sensitive skin of his ears.

Every uttered word and light touch lingers. Sly hears every sentence. He feels every finger that fondles his locks, every touch made to his cheek, every heartfelt kiss to his lips. And when Koujaku binds him in his arms straight after, even though it is Aoba he’s holding, Sly still experiences the pools of warmth spawning deep within. There is no feasible way Sly can ignore the love beating into him from Koujaku’s various shows of pure affection.

Is he supposed to love someone this much? Is he allowed to be happy? Sly asks himself these questions at least ten times an hour; there is never an answer. He asks, too, if he _really_ has a daughter. That question above all else, is something that he wants answered. It’s almost too good to be true, him having a lover. A _family_.

Motivated, Sly carefully weasels out of Koujaku’s vines. It is not easy to accomplish, no. The trick is to slither further and further while pausing for a couple minutes in between each attempt. It’s a process because the bed shrinks in size with the addition of both their bodies – Koujaku insists on sleeping with Aoba – but Sly’d rather not have him awake. Once freed, Sly skillfully leaves the bed without a creak. The other man briefly stirs, but it’s nothing too alarming. Quietly, he makes careful steps in the direction of the moonlit bassinet, but every step is taking him a thousand years. His heart is seconds from simply splitting, because he knows if he takes a single glance at her – and through _his_ eyes – there would be no going back for him.

But he wanted to see her with his own spheres. 

He needed to see her.

Just this once.

…Sly seizes the edge of Aleena’s bassinet, and swallows.

He leans forward…

…

And just like that, he falls in love.

She is perfect. Petite. Sweet-faced, like Aoba. He clearly sees that she has been blessed with the brilliant, lustrous shade of Koujaku’s mane. Sly mentally notes her every movement, from the subtle twitch of her tiny toes to the gentle rise and fall of her chest as her teeny lungs take air. Her hair, her little arms and pudgy legs, her long lashes. She is absolutely, absolutely lovely. Sly wishes to touch her – to at the very least fiddle with the dainty wisps of her hair with his finger – but a force within himself stops him. He does not touch her, for he cannot touch what is not his.

Yes, _this_ again.

“She’s beautiful, right?”

Sly doesn’t even flinch at the steady voice in the darkness. All he needs to know is Koujaku is awake, and there is no running away. He hears Koujaku pushing the covers to the side. There are three, audible steps, and Sly is encompassed in the most tender, closest back embrace yet. The strength of it is what honestly keeps Sly standing. He feels lifted. Light, but flooded and dense with emotion. Oh he’s missed this. Only one person has ever held him like this. He wills himself not to cry, though Koujaku’s kind, forceful warmth is all over him. Permeating every pore. And it hurts. All of it hurts.

It hurts so nice.

Koujaku tucks his chin in the warm crook of Sly’s neck, chuckling in the moist depths of his throat. His arms tighten about Sly’s midsection.  

“She ended up having my hair, but I’m not in the least bit upset. I’m just happy that she’s actually here. And she has your eyes. They’re lighter than Aoba’s. And they shine. I see you every time I look at her.”

Sly takes his hand from the bassinet.

“How did you know it was me?” He’s found out, so it’s no point in playing games anymore.

“I just knew, and right now, I don’t know whether to beat your ass or to make love to you.”

“Heh, they both sound the same.”

And it seems that Koujaku isn’t in the mood for games, either. He clips both palms onto Sly’s shoulders and forcibly spins him around like a top.

“Enough of this, Sly. _Enough_. Where have you been?”

“ _Really_. Where else could I have gone, Koujaku? You tell me.”

“We’re not doing this right now, Sly. You owe me – _us_ answers.”

“I don’t ‘ _owe_ ’ shit.”

“Stop with this bullshit, Sly!!” hushes Koujaku, being mindful of their slumbering child, and his grip stiffens, “You’ve been hiding away for weeks, from the both of us, _gone_. Gone without a single word.”

Sly redirects his vision to a dark shadow the shrouded his bed.

“How do you think we’ve felt? _How I’ve felt!?_ ” Koujaku adds.

Sly shrugs, continuing making eyes with the illuminated floor, “Fuck, you’re overreacting.”

“When you lock yourself up and away from me like that – with no warning or explanation – how do you think I’m supposed to react!? Don’t you think I care about you? Sly, I thought I was going to lose you. I thought I was going to lose everything again!! And what if I did!? What if I never got the chance to speak to you again!? What then!? Would I still be overreacting!?”

“It’s not even that serious—!”

Koujaku grips Sly’s right wrist with such pressure the latter thinks his bones popped. He is dragged quietly into the open where he is then heavily pressed against the wall with nothing but Koujaku’s full body restricting his movement. Sly parted his lips to cuttingly respond with something with just as much zeal, but Koujaku’s full mouth swamped over his own at the first syllable. Their kisses are penetrating, nauseating, _sweet_. He loves when Koujaku handles him like this. He prefers that he handles him in this way, honestly. All that passion shoved down his throat in one sitting, and he has no other choice but to take it. They do not part for a good minute, Sly ravenously drinking everything Koujaku’s giving him until the latter cuts him off.

“I fucking _love_ you,” Koujaku hisses through the tight gaps that separate his clenched teeth, “So it _is_ serious. You are mine. You are a part of me. If anything were to happen to you, or Aoba, or our baby, I would become nothing, someone without reason—”

“—Stop saying ‘our.’”

“…What are you talking about?”

And Sly releases this mildly disturbing, quiet laugh, “This is too good. Everything that’s happening now is too… _good_. ‘Cause I know somewhere down the line – someway, somehow – I’m gonna get _fucked_. So I’ve decided to back out of this shit now before any o’ that happens, ‘cause no one’s gonna fuck me on my watch. Not you. Not Aoba. Fucking Tae. No one. The moment I say that she’s _my_ child, something’s gonna happen and she’s gonna  be taken from me. And I will kill you. I swear to motherfucking God I will kill you if you…” Sly gulps and suddenly realizes that there is liquid leaking from his eyes, “ _…if you… if they t… t-take…_ ”

“Sly…”

He can’t even get the rest of the words out. But no seriously. Sly loves that baby girl. He cradled her spirit before she was even born – he was technically the first one to hold her – and the idea that she is one-hundred percent his daughter is still something that has not wholly sunk in. That is only because he has refused it. And never would he verbally announce any of his weaknesses, but Sly becomes petrified at the slightest possibility of having the things and the people he cherishes disappearing from his life. And the stronger the love, the more it hurts. Rejection has never created pleasant feelings and memories, and the countless lacerations that it causes are not something that one can completely heal from in a short timeframe. So Sly does the rejecting; he runs away.

But it hurts too much.

He wants Aleena to be his.

He wants Koujaku to be his.

He wants a family. He wants love. He wants all of that. But deep, deep, deep down, Sly thinks he’s undeserving, and that ideology is what he has been nursing himself off of for weeks. It thoroughly sickened him, subsequently sickening Aoba, and it put all three of them in danger. That is what landed Aoba in the hospital early: the byproduct of Sly worrying prompted Aleena’s early birth. He knows it, too, and feels ever the more horrible.

The crumbly, unintimidating threats of death keep coming while Koujaku has his left arm strapped around his waist, the other supporting his upper frame. Sly’s holding on to Koujaku’s shoulders. His head is tucked into his chest. Koujaku’s right fingertips lovingly scrape the crown of his lover’s head. He’s grinning against his temple, lips leaving kisses on the open space, all the while muttering “I love you”s. And as they stand still in that hallway, Sly receives the love pouring inside of him from Koujaku. And this time, he doesn’t reject an ounce of it.

“I want you to listen to every word that I speak, and I want you to take it to heart, because I am only going to say this one final time: That baby in that room is your daughter, Sly. She is yours; she came from you. No one can and is ever going to take her away from you. Ever. Not me, not Aoba, not Tae. Not anybody. I promise you that.”

Sly peeks out of his hiding spot and their pupils easily find one another’s again in the blackness. Koujaku smiles and lands a less bruising kiss on his lover’s lips.

“No one’s going to take her from you. I won’t allow it.”

“You swear.”

“I swear.”

“You _swear_ , Koujaku.”

“ _I swear_.”

“………”

Koujaku chuckles, “Are we done swearing?”

“……Yeah.”

“Then come to bed with me.”

Sly obeys. He slips his right hand into his lover’s left and is guided back into the moon-washed room. Aleena’s knocked out still; Koujaku makes the joke that her and Aoba will sleep through anything. Sly suggests that they test it while crawling beneath the sheets, but Koujaku denies, roping his arms around him when he gets nestled in.

“Let’s be good and go to sleep.”

Sly calls Koujaku old and “no fun.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm](http://prettysoldierbee.tumblr.com) sorry really. this is for those who wanted me to continue this series. ;; thank you for reading !! ;;;; and aLSO thank you to bb [bibi](http://samekimchis.tumblr.com) for their aleena [doodle](http://samekimchis.tumblr.com/post/97830908074/prettysoldierbee-are-you-happy-now-bee-there) oh ilysm //////


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